


midsummer madness

by drmroses



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 6dream travels the world together, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Sneaking Around, Social Media, Texting, jeno + mark are cousins!, renjun's a social influencer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23410834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drmroses/pseuds/drmroses
Summary: A sound from the mud room, Jisung’s deep laughter and Jaemin’s giggles alike, and Renjun has Mark slipping on a pair of Renjun’s shoes and slipping down the fire escape.“Go!” He hisses, and Mark winks, taking his sweet time to tease Renjun. He's gone down several steps silently and carefully when he suddenly turns around.“I forgot something,” he says, and it’s over before Renjun even knows. A kiss on the cheek, barely felt by Renjun. The sentiment lies there though, bubbling over with delight.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee
Comments: 16
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic. this fic has been my baby for the past three or four months and i'm so excited to finally get it all off my chest!! i can say with full honesty that i've never written something as special to me as this fic.  
> oh also!! i've been trying to improve my writing through more character building...and hopefully the way its written sounds more complete to your eyes! i'm ranting on and on again, sorry i'll let you get to reading (:
> 
> anyways i hope you enjoy reading it! thank you for taking the time to click and read!

The moment the plane touches down in New York, Renjun is tugging his jacket back onto his shoulders from his lap. In the seat next to him, Jaemin stretches and yawns, having been woken up by the jostling of the plane. 

“What’d I miss?” He asks, and Jeno, the seat over, rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, you missed absolutely so much! The baby in front of us was crying for, like, four hours. I watched the clouds for five hours, bored to death.” He hisses. “But no, continue napping the day away.” 

Jaemin yawns once more. “Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.” 

From the aisle across them, Donghyuck attempts to throw a piece of trash at Jaemin’s face. “Some of us haven’t even slept since we were in London about, hmmm, eight hours ago you piece of insufferable shit.”

Jisung, next to him, sighs as he puts his hands to his forehead. “Can we not do this now?” He hisses. “The flight attendant is literally going to kick us out.” 

“She can’t do that Jisung, we’re literally still moving.” Chenle snickers. 

That shuts up Jisung up, who grumbles before turning back to the window. Jaemin, as if in regret for starting this whole mess, stretches, and then stuffs his sweatshirt into a bag beneath the seat in front of him, crinkles and all as the knowing hum of the airplane’s lights run on. 

Donghyuck looks pointedly at him, before choosing to focus his attention on his own luggage. There’s still five different pens in his lap, a pair of headphones lying in the pocket in front of him, and far too many little items thrown around hazardously that Donghyuck will end up losing. Renjun rolls his eyes as he scrambles to throw them all in a bag. 

Renjun’s brain is already racing at thoughts about his mental check list. He’s always jumpy when they land. Too excited for the new possibilities that lay beyond customs.Too worried for everything that needs to slot perfectly into their plans. 

The first few steps are shaky, and Renjun wonders for a second if he’s forgotten how to walk. The bustle of people swallow Renjun up. He wishes he would have more time to stop and stare; he wants to take notes about the way people act, all smiles and frowns. But there’s no time; Jeno’s on the phone with his cousin about the apartment he’s loaned out to them for the time being, Jaemin’s in the bathroom, putting on dressy clothes because he constantly needs to look presentable, and who knows where the rest are. 

He walks up to the front, where they’ve all agreed to meet in case (and most certainly when) they get lost. Chenle and Jisung have magically reappeared in front of Renjun, and appear to be haggling with a taxi driver about the price of taking them seven to the Upper West Side, although Renjun doubts his taxi can fit more than four. A ding from his phone, and Renjun pulls up their group chat, indicating seven new texts, including a rushed one from Donghyuck, indicating that he has absolutely no idea where the hell the rest of them are, just that he’s _somehow_ in terminal 5???? 

Renjun wonders when he signed up to babysit all of them. He runs back inside, making some sort of a flimsy excuse about his luggage to get back inside the terminals. Once at terminal five, he tramples across the space in search of Donghyuck, who’s looking at sunglasses instead of trying to find a way out. Once he finds Donghyuck, they have to wait in another line just to exit through scanning. They make it back to the main entrance whole, suitcases intact, but just in time to watch a taxi full of his friends leave. Luckily another taxi has pulled up to the curb, and Renjun gets in the front seat, leaving Donghyuck to scamper for the back. 

He yells an address directly into the driver’s ear from the passenger seat, and nearly falls into the driver’s seat as the driver swerves to avoid an oncoming car. Swears are tossed around from the driver’s end, and Renjun takes his first breath of fresh air, propping the window open. The airport is always the worst part; the adventure only begins now. 

Taking a picture of the skyline, he tags the rest of them on his story and waits for the views to rush in. With nowhere to go in abysmal traffic, Renjun pulls up his DMs, finding several accounts asking for promotions and partnerships. They all seem to say the same thing: Renjun is _different,_ _stunning,_ and that they’d do _anything_ to partner with him. He accepts a few of value and deletes the rest without a second thought. 

Bartering is his favorite part of his lifestyle. There’s a certain rush he lives for, of being able to take and reject offers. As his popularity has grown, so have the offers, and Renjun is unashamed to say that he’s made it. He can live how he wants, all for the price of documentation. If his life were to continue this way for the next fifty years, Renjun would be fine with that. He’s happy where he is, with friends that treat him well and cities that never grow old. 

In the back of his mind, a voice hisses at him that it’s too easy, that he’s running away from his problems instead of dealing with them. In his mind, he pictures the silhouette of someone left under the rain waiting for him in Seoul, of one in Beijing haunted by images of Renjun everywhere he goes, of a boy in left in London just a few days ago, beautiful flowers still in his hands, offset by the tragic look on his face from the back of Renjun’s taxi.

But it’s all too easy. Has just always been so easy. Even when Jaemin quit, hanging up his flirty nature for a certain model across the globe, Renjun hasn't stopped. He loves the thrill of finding someone new, of figuring them out, up and down. 

When the car jolts to a stop, Renjun looks outside his window to find Chenle outside, tapping eagerly. He steps out, and the apologies pile on top of each other.

“We’re so sorry—”

“Jisung said you guys were in the back—”

“I thought you were kidnapped or something—”

“Forgive us?”

Renjun shrugs. “Buy us dinner and we’ll call it even,” says Donghyuck, an arm slung around Renjun.

The apartment is too good. Splendid, by any rate. Renjun wonders how rich Jeno's cousin must be to afford this home as a second to rent out. It's a penthouse suite on the top two levels. There’s four bedrooms; a master downstairs that overlooks a quaint coffee shop bustling with people, young and old. Three other bedrooms can be found upstairs, all equally grand, with their own theme. No matter where Renjun looks, all he sees is the red and browns mixing into the walls; rosy red chairs decorated with carved dragons and placemats fit for a king. 

Renjun snaps pictures of the architecture, hoping to draw a different, new following with those pictures. He’s gaining traction, but it’s slower now, and Renjun sometimes wonders when it’ll die. When he’ll be nothing but another face to millions of people across the globe. Jeno frowns as he snaps the photos, annoyed by how Renjun’s using nothing but his cell phone camera and the auto settings. 

Once, they’d gotten into a full on argument about auto versus manual, and the difference between taking pictures for your followers to live vicariously through versus for yourself. They didn’t speak for several days after, and sometimes, Jeno’s words go through his mind like whistling in the wind. Jeno’s right at any rate, but Renjun’s stubborn, abrasive and too embarrassed by his own constant pampering to please his audience.

When the sun begins falling from the sky, and the moon props itself up, they all make a beeline for the master bedroom. Compared to the size of the room, the bed is small, and soon they’re all scampering and squabbling. When a few minutes turns to half an hour, Jeno sighs and pulls his phone.

“I’ll know how we’ll sort this out fairly.” He says.

“A random number generator??” says Chenle hopefully as everyone groans. They’ve all learned to never bet against Chenle.

Jeno whips out his phone. “I’ll ask Mark to choose.” He says.

As Jeno dials his number, Jaemin whines. “That’s not fair,” he says, “He’ll pick you of course, you’re his cousin!” 

Jeno puts Mark on speakerphone, and they all crowd around, waiting for his response. Having sent Mark a picture of the six of them ahead of time, they wait eagerly. A moment of silence passes between the boisterous boys, and then, Mark calls out, “The pretty one?”

“Suck it, bitches!” Jaemin crows, dropping on to the bed with a fascinating grin as he laughs. 

Jeno puts out his hand. “Mark,” he says softly, “Define pretty one.” There’s a moment of pause, and then Mark says “Second one from the right.” 

After a few moments of awkwardly saying goodbye, Jeno hangs up to go look at the picture. Renjun counts in his head, _one, two_...that’s him. Huang Renjun, standing with his arms around Chenle next to him, other hand pointing helpfully up at the Big Ben.

Renjun pushes Jaemin and his shocked face off the bed, sitting triumphantly. At the sight of their retreating backsides, he calls out, “Bye, uglies!” and laughs as Jaemin charges back in to tackle him to the ground.

The next morning finds Renjun in the kitchen, begging for a picture of Mark from Jeno. He would be lying if he said he was just curious.

“Please?” Renjun holds up another pancake on a plate, and Jeno goodnaturedly grabs it and a plate, utensils already on the table. A cup of water has been poured into a glass by his side, and Jeno takes two giant gulps before answering.

“No.” He pours the syrup to drown his pancakes in, acting as if he has this conversation with Renjun every single day.

“But it’s perfectly harmless!” protests Renjun, who has searched for a “Mark Lee” on Instagram all night much to no avail.

“I’m not giving you a picture of him.” Jeno’s mouth is full when he says this, and Renjun crinkles his nose at the sight of half chewed food.

“Why?” Another sigh from Jeno, but something seems to click in his mind; he gives an affirmative nod, pushing away his plate. “Alright. If you got a picture of him, you’d be asking for his phone number next.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” Renjun bats his eyes at Jeno, who rolls his own.

“I’m not letting my cousin become one of those boys you find and break to your pleasure. Mark isn’t just anyone off the streets of New York. He’s family and therefore, my responsibility. Find someone else to hurt.”

“What if I promise that I won’t get his phone number if you give me his photo? He can’t be that good looking, Jeno. If anything, keeping his photo from me will make me more curious and then I’ll—”

“—Suit yourself. I warned you already.” Jeno interrupts, clearly displeased as he grabs his phone. A few taps later, and a photo is in Renjun’s hands.

And Renjun knows now from that picture that he can’t possibly follow Jeno’s rules. Mark Lee is gorgeous to say the least. The picture’s a bad one but nevertheless, Renjun needs his phone number, needless to whatever he promised Jeno. Mark’s wearing beat up brown boots, faded jeans and a flannel with light and dark shades of red hanging loosely around his chest. He’s smiling towards the camera, looking quite natural with his hands raised, as if he’s shying away from it.

Renjun knows he’s dipping into dangerous territory. But god, Mark drips in beauty from head to toe. He dresses as if he’s trying to go for the kind of aesthetic only found in old polaroids. Renjun wants to talk to him; he wants to listen and watch those beautiful eyes light up in front of him. Renjun knows that Jeno is technically right, in some sense.

But why must he have to follow the rules?

Mark comes over one day, dressed in a suit and tie while Jeno’s out. When Renjun opens the door, still in his pajamas at three in the afternoon, he suddenly finds himself shy, hiding behind the door. And so does Mark it seems, blushing and stuttering all over the place, clearly remembering his last words over the loudspeaker.

“I came to check up on the place, make sure it’s still in one piece,” He cracks a smile, and Renjun relaxes his tightened shoulders. 

“Of course, come in.” He ushers Mark into the living room, and offers to take his coat, making some tea and washing strawberries and blueberries from the fridge. 

Jeno would be proud. Look at him, six seconds in, and he hasn’t even asked for a phone number. (He wants it though, has wanted to ask since the first second Mark showed up in full attire, shy and shaken at the front door).

“I’m the pretty one by the way,” Renjun smirks, watching as Mark’s face fills with color and then as he laughs as if he's the funniest person in the whole world. “Renjun Huang.” 

“Mark Lee.” His tone is dangerous, as cold as the surface of the table early in the morning, and Renjun knows that Mark knows what he wants.

He decides to take the initiative. Screw waiting for the other; Renjun can break his own rules for him.

“So...now that introductions are set aside, would you like to go out sometime?” Renjun asks, all hesitation thrown aside.

Inside, he coos as Mark blinks a few times. On the outside, he gives a small giggle and brings his full attention back to Mark in present time, warm and cozy on his red sofa.

“I-I’d like that.” A quick smile, and serious Mark is back. “There’s a cake shop that I’ve been hoping to introduce to someone special. Why don’t I pick you up tomorrow; you can document it for that blog of yours.”

Renjun nods, and then pauses with uncertainty. “I never mentioned that I had a blog before…” Mark squirms. “Were you stalking me?” He fake gasps. ”Mr. Lee! How distasteful.” 

The glimmer in his eye says otherwise; Renjun loves the attention, and Mark can tell. He leans closer to Renjun, until they’re only separated by the arms of the chair. Then, he leans back into his chair, leaving Renjun breathless under high scrutiny.

A sound from the mud room, Jisung’s deep laughter and Jaemin’s giggles alike, and Renjun has Mark slipping on a pair of Renjun’s shoes and slipping down the fire escape. 

“Go!” He hisses, and Mark winks, taking his sweet time to tease Renjun. He has gone down several steps silently and carefully when he suddenly turns around. 

“I forgot something,” he says, and it’s over before Renjun even knows. A kiss on the cheek, barely felt by Renjun. The sentiment lies there though, bubbling over with delight.

He hears footsteps in the hallway, and Renjun adjusts the expression on his face. He quickly takes out a sweater from his cabinet, and pretends to fold it over in his lap.

Jaemin leans over the doorway with a bag in his hand. “What’d you do today?” Jaemin asks with a smile and Renjun shrugs.

“I just slept; I think I’ll start going out tomorrow.” Jaemin smiles, and picks up a pair of bags. 

“Well, you’ll never guess what I found walking down Seventy Ninth! Look at this!” He proceeds to pull out several pieces of clothing, each with their own backstory. Renjun just manages to nod through the stories, pretending to be fascinated when in reality all he can think about it tomorrow.

What should he wear? The clothes thrown all over the master bedroom say a lot about Renjun's feelings right now. Sweaters lay vacantly dressing the floors, as pants are strewn recklessly across his bed. He’s digging and digging until he realizes his best asset hasn't even left the building yet. 

“Jaemin!” He calls down the large hallway, running around the corner. Jaemin, in the middle of eating cereal, merely cocks an eyebrow at Renjun’s disheveled state. 

“Can you help me pick out some clothes?” At Jaemin’s hesitation, Renjun pulls out his biggest card. “I’ll tag you.”

And there Jaemin goes, arms around Renjun as he starts flipping through all of his own and Renjun’s clothes, practically excavating pieces from their high school days; pairing a loose dress shirt of blues with some ripped black jeans and a pair of leather shoes. 

Renjun shakes his head before he even realizes it. “I don't want to wear that.” He blushes under Jaemin’s scruntant eye. “Can you pick out something softer? Please?” 

Jaemin sighs, but brings out loose jeans that he tucks into a yellow sweatshirt. “Wear your glasses,” he commands, and Renjun has a foot out the door soon after. 

Mark shows up early; Renjun spots him leaning against the brick overlay, wearing less formal clothes this time. He’s got on jeans, and a green hoodie. 

“Hey!” Renjun calls out, waving his sleeve in Mark’s face. “We match!”

“That we do,” Mark winks, and Renjun physically is unable to suppress the blush that rises from his cheeks.

  
  


“Lady M’s!” Mark announces as they make their way through the doors of the white cafe, breaking the silence in the shop. Inside, a few cakes decorate the space with color, as chefs in white uniforms wait for instructions. Mark points to the thousand layer matcha cake, and asks for two slices. 

With no space inside, they leave and find themselves in a colorful park. Mark sets up the brown paper box there; he’s got a picnic basket with him as well, but they both first choose to have some cake. 

“What do you want to do in the future?” Mark asks, and Renjun merely blinks at him. They were talking about their favorite colors just a moment ago; where had this come from?

He shrugs, popping a raspberry in his mouth. “I don’t really have one. Just planning on going wherever the wind takes me.” Red splays across his mouth, and Mark brings his thumb up to clean some of it. 

“I hope that the wind will allow me to be taken away with you.” He murmurs, and Renjun clasps his hand into his.

“I think that can be arranged.” It comes out softer than Renjun had hoped and he looks around at anything other than Mark embarrassed. When he looks back to Mark though, he’s smiling, brighter and brighter than Renjun’s ever seen.

When Renjun gets home, he looks through the pictures that Mark had taken of him without complaining. Renjun notes how well he’s taken these photos. The sunlight streams right behind Renjun, creating a halo-like effect. He’ll barely have to do much editing, other than merely popping the colors out the slightest. 

He posts it on his story, and then scrolls through his dms where one lee_mark has said _thank you._

Renjun types out, _thank YOU for the perfect day_...and then deletes the message. 

He tries out an _i hope to see you some other time!_ and deletes it just as his thumb is hovering over the send button. 

Finally, he types out a _no, thank YOU :)_ and leaves it be, choosing to leave his phone on the desk instead of on his nightstand to prevent any sort of lingering intrigue.

  
  
  


A few days later, Mark shows up before dinner time, a few bags in hand. Jisung looks at the security screen, and nearly doesn’t let him up. Luckily enough, Renjun has just come into the main space, and with one glance, presses the unlock button.

Before Jisung can scold him for letting up a random stranger, Renjun says, “It’s Mark!” 

While Mark makes himself at home on the couch, leaving his brown loafers at the door, Jisung catches Renjun in the kitchen. 

“How did you know it was Mark?” He asks and Renjun shrugs as normally as he can. He’s washing blueberries and blackberries in a little orange bin that must have been something that Mark picked out. It’s neat. With one push of a button, and the water falls out, leaving behind only the fruit.

“Jeno showed me a picture; I was curious,” he says as nonchalant as he can. Jisung seems to buy it; leaving Renjun to grin openly as he pops open the bottle of wine Mark had brought over.

When Jaemin comes home, Renjun’s mixing a sauce together while Mark looks appreciatively into the foggy glass on the stove. Jaemin doesn’t even mention the man he’s never seen in the kitchen before, merely grabbing a glass of water.

Once they're gathered around the dining room, using ottomans and stools for chairs, Jeno formally introduces Mark. 

Renjun sits across from Mark, avoiding the open place next to him. That way, he concludes, he’ll be less likely to be caught staring.

“This is Mark, my cousin!” Mark raises his hand in acknowledgement as the sound of four different greetings sound.

Jaemin however, is the only one speechless, coughing. Once his windpipe is clear again, he says, “I thought you were Renjun's boyfriend, not Jeno’s cousin! Why were you two so close in the kitchen?” 

A confused glance is tossed his way from Jeno, and Renjun thinks on his feet. “Oh, you know, I was just being nice. You should try it sometime!”

Dinner is nice even with Jaemin’s outburst; Jeno seems to not notice anything out of the ordinary, even when Mark nearly reaches for Renjun’s hand across the table, before pretending to actually be reaching for the spoon next to his hand. Jaemin and Chenle both shoot suspicious looks at Renjun, but he ignores them in favor of focusing on his food.

He’s playing footsie, as childish as it seems, under the table, a blank expression on his face. It’s nice to finally see Mark the way that Jeno has described him, much shyer than anything Renjun’s seen. 

After making a mess, Jeno and Donghyuck clear the table (with rock, paper, scissors) and leave the six left to begin monopoly. Splitting into teams, Jaemin yanks Chenle to be his partner, and Jisung whines because he wanted Chenle. 

While they try to figure it out Renjun sits next to Mark. 

“Hey stranger,” He says, and a haughty look lingers over Mark’s face. “Nice to meet you! I’m Renjun, one of Jeno’s friends.”

Mark stretches his hand out. “Mark.” His eyes glimmer. “Do you want to be partners?”

A few hours later, and with all the properties having been sold, Renjun can tell that Jeno’s eyes are on him. Mark and him acting suspicious in their own little world, trying to move pieces at the same time, and acting quite friendly. Too friendly. Hands brush against each other as their eyes meet far too fast each time they gain a bit of money. 

Renjun has managed to argue his way around rules and the like, creating a monopoly along two sides of the board. Jaemin, down to his last few dollars, dramatically rolls to the ground and whines, “I have children to feed, don’t you feel at least a bit bad?” 

Renjun shrugs. “Not really.” He holds his hands out, waiting for the dollars to be handed over. 

“I have a” _boyfriend to feed_ threatens to slip out, but he swallows it back in. “Mark. I have a Mark to feed, unfortunately.” Mark blushes at the statement, as if he knows exactly what Renjun was thinking.

Jaemin chuckles. “Right, a Mark.” Jeno shoots him a look that tells him that he’s figured out something if not nothing about what Renjun’s been doing for the past few days. 

Once the night is over, Renjun waves goodbye from the kitchen as Jeno escorts Mark down to his car. When he gets upstairs, Renjun’s the only one left by the counter. He wonders if Jeno will blow up at him, and yet, Jeno merely brushes past him as if he isn't in the kitchen.

  
  
  


Another day, another outfit. This one has been delivered from a local store, and Renjun takes the time to shout them out on his story, waiting for a _thank you_ and an offer to roll in. It's a yellow beret, and a blue sweatshirt that Renjun pairs with some light washed out jeans with rips that would have both his parents complaining if they ever saw him in them.

His first meeting is the most fun of the three this week. He’s set an appointment with a fashion magazine to give a short interview. Once on site, they shoot for a few minutes, Renjun’s hands grazing over nice pieces of various shades of clothing he’ll be persuaded into taking home that he’ll end up distributing to his friends. He’s ushered into a cozy chair as the interviewer, Johnny, introduces himself and their classic three rounds of questioning.

In the first round, still sitting on the couch, he gets asked what his favorite color is ( _yellow_ ), his favorite place that he’s visited ( _San Francisco_ ), and his favorite food ( _his mom’s tomato and egg soup_ ). He asks him what his plans are, and he jokes about getting a real job with a wink to the side. Johnny asks him what he brings with him constantly, and he shows them his sketchbook, but only the cover, and makes some philosophical comment about artistry when they try to get him to show more .

It’s only when the morning shade has turned into afternoon burn that Renjun realizes that he won’t be able to make it to Mark and their planned lunch. Within the few minutes that he’s escorted from one scene to the next, he texts Mark a quick message that he honestly should have sent much sooner. As in, at least, three hours earlier. 

They lead him to an individual hot pot restaurant, where he asks questions as Renjun throws all sorts of meats and veggies into a bright red pot. Johnny grills him about possible relationships, and Renjun brushes them off without even breaking into a sweat. They say that he’s on the hot seat, but how can he be when he’s practiced for so long? He can almost hear the edited sound effects over Johnny’s question, and suppresses a grin.

He has nothing left but a calm disposition and a pair of steady hands. Japan taught him so. England taught him so. Sitting with his grandmother, side by side as they folded meat into dough taught him so. Playing football on muddy fields taught him so, steady as he would ever be as a ball was kicked his way.

The last round, Renjun soon finds out, is in an ice cream store with the entire camera crew trying to cram into a tiny local store while Renjun sheepishly apologizes to the customers. Thirty minutes later, and they're finally done. Johnny asks to take a few pictures with Renjun, and just like that, he is on his way home, walking as fast as his blistered feet will let him.

He receives a notification from Mark as he’s walking home, but he’s easily distracted, and swipes to dismiss it just as Jeno and Jisung deem it to be family game night. Between making sure no one cheats and none of them try to kill each other (Jaemin jumps over a table to try and strangle Jeno. It would be impressive if not so terrifying), it’s safe to say that he forgets. Just like that.

  
  
  


When Renjun sees Mark next, he’s with Jisung and Chenle, clearly immersed in conversation. Renjun freezes for a moment, before deciding to grab his latte and go without them noticing. Unfortunately, it seems that fate will not allow it, as Mark throws out a piece of trash as the barista calls Renjun’s name. Loudly. His head snaps, and meets Renjun’s eyes just as he’s about to grab the latte. 

In shock, Renjun nearly spills it. Luckily, he catches it, and grabs a few napkins before he glances around to their corner again. Mark has just slipped out the door, and Renjun breathes a sigh of relief.

“Hello!” Chenle looks far too happy for that dangerous glimmer in his eyes. Renjun wants to stutter out an excuse and leave, just as Mark had done a few minutes earlier, his hands tucked inside his jacket with a certain bounce in his step.

“We were just talking about places to eat in New York; Mark mentioned that he had just gone to Lady M’s on a date...isn’t that such a coincidence?”

Renjun shrugs. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Inside, he puffs up happily. Mark had talked about them, going to Lady M’s, and called it a _date?_

“Oh, don’t lie. We can all see your Instagram.” Chenle pulls up his profile. “I have all the evidence here. You went with Mark, didn’t you?”

At that moment, Jisung perks up with a knowing look. “So that's why you knew who was at the door!”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Yes, you’ve found me. Congrats!" Sarcasm lingers in the air, and Jisung draws away from the conversation to go to the bathroom.

Renjun lowers his voice. “Are you planning on telling Jeno?” 

Chenle smirks, “I figured it would be interesting for him to think it out himself.”

“Or…” Renjun drags out the r, “he could never find out?”

Chenle snorts. “Bold of you to assume that you can hide it forever.”

“Who said anything about forever?” Renjun stutters out. His hands draw circles against the wooden smooth table. 

“I mean, well, I just think there's something different this time—even with the way he looks at you, as if you’re not just a challenge, something to trap.” 

Renjun shakes his head. “Well, I guess we'll see then.” He sounds unconvinced, even to himself.

Chenle reaches his hand out, but Renjun purposefully pulls away. “I gotta go...errands and stuff.” He grabs his bag just as Chenle waves a small goodbye.

Mark is waiting for himself outside. Renjun tries to give him a small smile, but it's clear whatever he wants to talk about is something that's meant to be said in private. They make their way to his apartment, and Renjun can't help the little jump in his step. It's a perfect afternoon.

Once they get to the front porch, Mark slides behind Renjun, as he inserts the code. He pushes the heavy doors open, and takes the route up the two flights of stairs. Once inside, Mark slides his jacket onto the nearest chair. He moves a few steps closer to the window. 

Renjun blinks a few times. “I’m sorry about not being able to make it to our lunch. I got all caught up in work. And then I totally forgot that you had texted me.” 

Mark laughs. “That’s alright, I understand. We all get busy sometimes. I'm just glad you still like me.” 

Renjun wonders how Mark can be so calm. If he were Mark, he’d be angry at him. He’s so kind to Renjun, so good for him. Renjun thinks, well Renjun knows that there’s something more than just like in his heart. 

He blurts out an “I love you.” before he can properly think and opens his mouth to fix it when— 

“You can't take that back.” Mark laughs, placing his hand in front of Renjun's open mouth. “You said you love me. I heard it myself.”

Renjun waits for Mark to lord it over his head, but all he says back is, “I love you too.”

  
  
  


Still, Renjun doesn't realize how deep he is until a camera is directly nudged at his face. On screen with him are Yuqi and Xuxi, as part of their channel that films challenges and whatever floats across their minds. A successful duo, Renjun has long been used to their silly banter, from all the way before their college days.

So maybe it shouldn't surprise him that Xuxi brings up love. The mere mention of the topic brings Yuqi to cackle at the expression on Renjun's face, which he can only imagine must look like a lost puppy.

“So you have….met someone?” Xuxi wants to dig, and Renjun can’t do it on camera. He shrugs and laughs. 

“Something like that, I guess. I’ve met…” Pausing for dramatic effect, Xuxi makes a little drumroll motion. 

“The most adorable puppy I’ve ever seen that must belong to one of my neighbors. She’s so cute, and she puts his paws up whenever she sees me through the window.” Renjun sighs. He isn’t really lying—there’s truly a puppy that waves at him every time he leaves the house. He’s talked with his owner, Mrs. Patterson, an old little lady, and she’s agreed to let him walk her dog on the weekdays. 

Yukhei groans. “This isn't the type of gossip that'll get us into some drama, come on Renjun, I expected more from you!” He sarcastically shakes his head, before moving on, but not before shooting him a look.

As soon as the camera has turned off, they lead Renjun to the kitchen counter, sitting on the barstools. “Alright,” Yuqi says, waving her hand. “Spill.”

And there Renjun's thoughts go, tumbling off through his mouth and into the world. “I just...I don’t know. He’s nice and sweet, and always gives me time to go out, even if he’s super busy being important and things…”

“But…” Yukhei cocks his head and presses. 

“But it feels too good to be real; it feels too fake to be true. I’ve never met anyone who got me so quickly I just can’t believe it’s real, I guess?” 

Yuqi scoffs at his remark. “To tell you the truth Jun, I’ve never seen you so happy. I think it's a good thing.” 

Yukhei decides to pipe up. “Huang, you need to learn to give yourself to others. I think you should experience a little more whirlwind in your life!” 

Renjun thinks that Yukhei is crazy, and his facial expressions must say so, because Yukhei waves a spatula threatening towards him. He ends up ducking, which leaves the batter to fly to Yuqi, who declares a full out food fight in their kitchen.

But even when he leaves covered in eggs and flour, Renjun's still thinking about their words. 

  
  


A month flies by in the blink of an eye, interlaced with kissing and love whispering in the air, when Jeno finally approaches him. 

Renjun has been dropping too many hints; he’s just surprised it took this long for Jeno to explode. 

“So what’s up with Mark and you?” Chenle removes himself from the living room, scampering over to the kitchen where Renjun assumes he’ll be gossiping with Jaemin about what’s happening.

Renjun shrugs. “We’re dating, is that okay?” 

Jeno rests his hands against his chest defensively. “Fine with me.” His tone is bitter cold. “Did you tell him that we’re planning on leaving in two weeks?”

“Not yet…” He trails off. Before he can come up with an argument, Jeno shakes his head, throwing his hands up. 

“You see, this is exactly why I didn't want you dating my cousin. All you’re doing is using him, breaking his heart far more than what is needed.” Jeno sticks a finger at Renjun's chest. 

“You're telling him tonight,” He practically growls, and walks out of the room.

Renjun’s hands shakily move things around his room as he tries to settle his beating heart. He knows that he should, knows that it's the right thing but how is he supposed to say anything when they're this happy?

  
  


When Mark walks into the apartment that night, everyone explodes with cheers. Renjun's sweaty hands shake with worry. Mark hugs Chenle with a hand before setting down the cake he brought for dessert. He greets the rest of them before turning to Renjun, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

The room explodes. Donghyuck yells, “Alright, hand it over,” as four hands dig into their pockets to slide bills into Donghyuck’s hands. 

Renjun blushes, but stays silent, trying to gather up some sort of courage. It takes the whole dinner, nervously glancing at Mark next to him, feeling their interlaced hands set between them. 

He finally finds it at the bottom of a few glasses of wine, when he asks Mark to come up to his room. Jisung giggles at the sight of them leaving, and Jaemin shouts, “Don't have too much fun, lovebirds!” 

As they climb up the stairs, Renjun thinks about how dangerously close it is to being over. How these nights will be replaced with something awful, something ruinous. He won’t be able to look at his time in New York the same anymore. For wherever he goes, it’ll be Mark, and his actions, his words glaring down at Renjun.

Renjun’s sweating by the time they enter the room. They’re just past the room’s entrance when Renjun says, “Mark, I’m leaving in two weeks.” before he can even get a word in. He rips it off like a bandaid, and Mark crosses his arms defensively.

“Well, that's fine with me! We can always just text and call and facetime, right?” Mark knows the answer, and yet, his optimistic self hopes, waits and wonders if Renjun will say “yes”, like it’ll all be okay, that nothing has changed.

Renjun wants to say ‘yeah, totally.’ He wants to stay here and be with Mark. He wants to be absolutely disgustingly in love.

But instead, he croaks out, ““I don't think we should.” He looks around the room, anything but the sour face in front of him. God, he knew it would hurt, but he didn’t think it would hurt this much, like a bullet to the heart.

“Is this you giving up?” Mark asks bitterly, and Renjun shrugs.

“You deserve better.” His voice cracks, and it's like every breakup that Renjun has had before, but worse. Because this time, he feels bad. He’s regretful of the way things have turned out, the way he's messed up Mark. 

But Renjun knows that it would be impossible. Because Mark likes safety. He likes shelter and warmth and things that are clear. He doesn’t like surprises all that much, and has had a planned itinerary most of the times he’s dragged Renjun out. Renjun wants him to thrive, and he knows it can’t, it won’t, it wouldn’t be with him.

Mark sighs, throws his hands up and says in a last ditch effort, “I can't believe this.” 

Like an afterthought, he adds, “I knew I shouldn't have thrown all my cards in.” 

He slams the door, and Renjun hears heavy footsteps lead down the stairs.

“I still love you.” Renjun's words lay in a vacant batter on the floor, with nowhere to go and no one to listen to. Mark would have listened if Renjun asked him to stay.

But Renjun didn’t.

Renjun crawls to the window and sits by it, a city horizon in his eye’s view. He watches the world work without him; a couple, dancing on the nearest rooftop, surrounded by dazzling lights; a family, sat around a dinner table eating with joyous laughter as company; another boy, far from the city, down by the coast, eating golden food and living the life Renjun always dreamed for. He sees all that and more. But he knows now it’ll never be him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all 6k words sprouted from that very last paragraph...huh 
> 
> i swear i didn't mean for it to get sad at the end..uh but then it did hah...i might write another chapter?? 
> 
> this story was strongly inspired by my parents and i traveling to china for a few weeks...although the jet lag was terrible, it really made me appreciate my own parents and idk,, it was nice to see my relatives :) 
> 
> thank u so much for sticking until the end !! thank u thank u thank u !!!! i really appreciate it :) comments about what you liked/absolutely hated/will kill me for are totally welcome !! 
> 
> see you next time :)
> 
> (come yell at me on [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/dreamjuns) or [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/drmroses))


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But weren’t the memories beautiful?” His tone is pleading. 
> 
> “They were nothing but fleeting.” Mark shakes off his arm, brushing him aside into the hallway. “And I think you should go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been quite a while since the first chapter (apologies) so i would suggest just scanning through the first one to understand everything :D
> 
> set a year later...i hope you enjoy it :)

There’s something indifferent in the spring air that creeps under Renjun’s sleeves when he arrives at the airport in New York City. The tunnel to the exit feels longer than it did last year. As he leaves the terminal, his pace feels slow and heavy. His bag slumps behind him, and he wishes, if only for a moment, that they were all still together. He smiles to himself amid the crowd. He can almost imagine the six of them together. The rain outside has just let up, and rays of sun poke through. Renjun takes care to step around the puddles, his faux leather shoes stepping with precision. 

Taking the subway, he falls in line with the people around him. His suitcase angrily clacks, and he has to yank it a few times as he makes his way closer to his hotel. He should really have bought a new suitcase a few trips ago, but he had put it off and now was dealing with the consequences. 

A gentle whoosh overhead, and Renjun enters a well air conditioned waiting area. He carefully brushes his shoes against the carpet and makes his way to the front desk. There, he breaths in the soft music and cucumber water and receives his hotel card. The receptionist’s voice barely rises above the music, and Renjun thanks her before heading towards the elevators. Everything is new, clean and fresh. He winces, feeling like a dirty old stain against the bright railing of the elevator. 

Each side he stares at elevates his face in a shiny glass mirror, and he wonders how past him would feel, for having such nice lighting and not taking the opportunity to find the best camera to aim a fake look into his glamorous life. It’s a bitter thought; Renjun can feel something simmering at the back of his throat. Before he can think too far into it, the elevator doors open on his level.

Finally, in the privacy of his room, Renjun jumps into bed, leaving the covers below him. He curls up against the pillows, and thinks about possibilities. For the first time since he’s left, he allows himself to think of Mark. 

He wonders if he has been doing alright. If he’s still happily bliss in his work. If he laughs without thinking, eyes widening. He wonders if he would be able to still look at Renjun like nothing else mattered. He wonders if he even deserves another chance with Mark.

Renjun stalls. 

He tries to shake the idea out of his head as he finds something to play on the TV, organizing his clothes from out of their neat places in his suitcase. But his thoughts wrap their hands around Mark. They won’t let go. Renjun needs to talk to someone. He drops the wrinkled clothes back into his suitcase and sits down onto the bed, back hitting the pillows.

He counts off his friends on a hand, realizing the only other person he could call at this time would be...Jeno.

Before he can think about it clearly, his fingers speed dial Jeno. The phone crackles for a minute. There’s a brief moment of silence when Jeno answers. Renjun hasn’t spoken to Jeno in a few months, and there’s no reason for him to call now. Jeno knows that.

Regardless, Jeno talks first. “What’s up?” He asks, and the tiny meow besides him tells Renjun he’s at home. He tries to work up to the topic. His fingers bounce incessantly onto the pillow covers next to him.

“How’re your cats?” Jeno hums under his breath with content. 

“So cute! I should send a few more pictures to the group chat, honestly.”

A smile breaks out on Renjun’s face. “Along with the hundreds we’ve already seen?” He teases.

“It can’t be  _ that _ many,” he says, and Renjun suppresses a giggle. He can almost see Jeno, arms crossed, phone on speaker in front of him, gently patting a cat. 

“Oh, trust me, it can.” Renjun confirms. “I would count them for you, but it would probably take a couple of hours.” 

Jeno chuckles. Renjun tries to switch topics, but his words cannot come to mind. He knows Jeno can hear him stammering over the phone; it’s painful to his ears.

Jeno sighs. “What’s the real reason you called me?”

“Well…” Renjun twists his fingers in front of him, as if there’s a telephone cord. “I’m back in New York City.” 

A silence passes between them. Renjun can almost see Jeno trying to calculate what Renjun’s working towards. 

“And? So?” His heart is screaming for him to leave the topic. His body feels fatigued and tense, as if preparing for battle. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m back...and I was thinking about going to see him?” Renjun swallows. A moment of silence passes through the phone cord.

“It’s a little too late to be asking me, don’t you think?” Jeno scorns. The atmosphere through the telephone has changed. Renjun finds himself defensively shifting away. It's been too long; he knows that well enough. Chenle had pestered him to come back, but even he had stopped a few months ago.

“How is he doing?” Renjun asks.

“I can't tell you that.” Jeno sighs. “Look, there’s just some things that I don’t think you should go poking around in. Mark deserves peace; isn’t that the least you could offer him? We should end it here.”

Renjun blinks, once, twice. “Who said this was an end? Why can’t it be a beginning?” 

“Let Mark live his own life.” Jeno pleads, and Renjun lets his shoulders slump. Jeno’s made up his mind; it’s clear to see. Renjun won’t receive any kind of valuable information from Jeno.

“Alright Jeno, I will.” Renjun says confidently, as if he has any plans to uphold those ideals. He's brought suddenly back to the first time, and how quickly he evaded Jeno's rules. His insecurities sink back into his thoughts. Was this a good idea? Going on a wild goose chase across the city to find someone who didn’t want to see him?

With a sharp goodbye that he's sure Jeno will apologize for later, Renjun grabs his phone and his wallet, heading straight for the door. It had been hectic last time. He breathes a sigh of relief at the thought of the amount of weight he carries on his chest comparative to last time. It gives him tranquility, thinking about the past and how easily his life can change with his wants and desires. 

At a small cafe that seems to be just about closed up, Renjun orders a plate of biscuits for the morning, and a small cookie for tonight. He takes the dessert to a bench just outside of his hotel, and watches people. People bustling around, even in the early evening, when the continuous noise has died down and the trees are loudest.

While sitting, he reflects on his career, reflects on all the choices made that have brought him here. Slowly, he scrolls through his camera, to a year back, and the only picture of Mark that doesn't feel corrupted in his mind pops up. It's the one Jeno had used to introduce him; Renjun can still recall all his curiosity boiling over. He traces Mark’s face with his thumb, thinks back through their dates. He tries to recall the last time he’s felt so much love for a single person.

Renjun had lost his number a few weeks after leaving, when Jeno had taken his phone and deleted it off. They had never discussed his decision to do so, but they both knew why. Behind closed doors, tears and ruckus, they knew what had led Renjun to Mark.

  
  


The next day, Renjun blindly makes his way to the old apartment they had stayed in last time, thanks to Mark. Renjun puts his promise to Jeno aside. The steps are still familiar in Renjun’s heart; his first and last love had sat together on that bench, fed each other ice cream in that shop, and held hands down this street. He’s retracing his steps, with the hope that something will come to fruition.

With every step, he realizes just how much he has missed Mark. A tearing wound, held together with some bandaids and tissues had been nothing to stand against his feelings. He wants to see Mark again, with all his flaws and joys. He doesn't know if he’ll be able to stop the sensation growing in his heart if he never sees him again. 

After a blistering year, he still remembers the apartment. He sits outside of it, on a park bench, and waits. There's no one else around. He studies the place. There's moss and leaves growing from the walls. A couch sits on the side of the street; Renjun recognizes it as one sat in the old living room. He traces the engravings in the sides; the life he could have passes before his eyes.

There’s a ‘for sale’ sign sitting pretty in a window of Mark’s apartment. Renjun shields his eyes and zeroes in on the lettering, confused. Is Mark selling the apartment?

A car pulls up. Renjun’s heart sinks when he sees a logo printed on the side of the car as the realtor exits the car, a sign under one hand and a coffee in the other. He walks up to her, offering to hold the sign for her. 

Gratefully, she mutters a thanks under her breath as she grabs more papers from her car. 

“Here for the house, are you?” 

Renjun winces. “Kind of. I’m friends with Mark.” The word friend comes out strangled, but she doesn’t seem to notice, instead nodding. Renjun tries to explain himself. “I’ve been kind of off of the maps these past few years; I got a new phone and all. This was the last place I remember seeing him at. Is he really selling the place?” The realtor sized him up as she unlocked the door.

“Yeah, he said something about bad memories.” She lets herself in; Renjun follows behind without a word. “Was that your fault?”

Renjun sighs. “Yes.” She glared at him sharply. “But I’m trying to fix things; I really am.” 

“So you’re Renjun.” She murmurs. 

“How did you know?” He takes a step back.

She sighs once more. “I’m Mina. Mark’s been my best friend since we were knee height.” A pause. Renjun doesn’t know what to do, but he’s not backing down. He needs to see Mark.

“You really hurt him.” It comes out strong; Renjun winces. Hearing the words that all of his friends have danced around strikes him like a punch to the stomach.

“I know, I just want to-”

“-fix things.” Mina finishes for him. She laughs bitterly. “I don’t know if anything you do will be able to make up for everything you did. You messed him up; you know that right?”

“But I’m here to set things straight. I want him back.” Renjun pleads. His voice sounds muffled even to himself. He can’t convince himself.

“You want him back?” Mina stares at him; Renjun is intimated. “So what happened last year? How can I trust that you won’t decide next week you don’t need him anymore?”

Renjun stutters. This is the moment he’s been waiting for, a clear shoot to prove himself innocent. He racks his mind for an idea. “Well, you see,” Renjun stammers. Nothing comes to mind. An absent silence falls over the two of them. 

The slam of the front door catches their attention. Their heads jerk to the front door as someone comes through. Renjun gulps. It’s Mark. He’s wearing a cardigan; one that tucks nicely into his pants. 

“Listen, I was thinking about just hanging around to see who’d be interested in buying.” He’s staring at something on his phone as he walks in, a habit Renjun used to chide him for. 

Mina coughs. “We’ve got company.” Her voice is unforgiving; Renjun doesn’t blame her.

Mark’s neck snaps up. “Hello!” He calls and steps back at the sight of Renjun. Renjun feels like recoiling himself. 

“What are you doing here?” It’s cold. And Renjun should have expected it; but he had dreamt of anything but confrontation. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” Renjun cocks an eyebrow. Mark sighs, taking a look at Mina. 

“Let’s take this upstairs.” They leave Mina in the dining hall, hands full of sales.

Mark leads the way up the stairs; Renjun feels deja vu from the last time they had climbed these stairs together. 

For the last time. 

They enter the room. It’s as cold and narrow as Renjun remembers it. All the accessories are still on the fireplace; Renjun takes a chair closest to the door. Mark makes himself at home, sitting on the bed. 

“You're selling the house.” It's an accusation, not a question.

“Yes.” Mark answers, regardless of Renjun’s scowl. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Right. I contact you after you tell me you never wanna see me again and break my heart against the very floorboards of this room.” He takes a look around. “I’ll be glad to get rid of the memories.” He stands up, making his way across the room, towards the door. Renjun grabs his arm.

“But weren’t the memories beautiful?” His tone is pleading. 

“They were nothing but fleeting.” Mark shakes off his arm, brushing him aside into the hallway. “And I think you should go.”

Renjun’s not easily persuaded, but the echo from Mark’s footsteps makes him feel as small as a bug. He walks downstairs, head down, and leaves without a single greeting. There’s nothing more to say, is there? Renjun feels the bitter rejection past his throat, down to his gut. He knows it's all his fault; the theme is clear. 

He huddles down the steps. He knows he shouldn’t stick around, head wearily, feet wobbly. He takes a lap around the park, spends two hours at the nearest cafe. But in the end, the clock roaring a hefty five in the afternoon, his trail leads back to the apartment. 

The door’s open. Renjun steps inside with weary. The lights are all off. The sun had been setting earlier, and it’s gone at this hour. His shadow widens as the door closes behind him; the only light guiding him is from his phone.

“Hello?” His voice echoes in the loud space. He makes his way into the kitchen and stumbles back in fear at the quiet figure sitting at the counter. 

“What are you still doing here?” Renjun asks.

“We couldn’t sell the house.” Mark’s voice is firmly gruff. “Come to laugh, right?” He swirls the water glass in his right hand. 

“Why do you think I would do that?” Renjun asks softly. He sits down besides Mark. “Just give it a few days, you’ll be able to sell it.” He wants to hold his hand, give him some comfort. But he knows it isn’t the right time.

“I’ve been trying to sell it for the past year.” He growls. The words  _ ever since you left _ buzz into Renjun’s brain. He tries to process the new information bestowed on his arms.

“It’s okay.” Renjun tries to press his hand into Mark’s shoulder, like a quiet reassurance. 

“It’s not.” He groans, putting his face in his hands. “I can’t get rid of the house, and now I can’t even get rid of you. I swear, yesterday seemed a lot brighter.”

“Oh.” Renjun feels foolish. What was he doing here, trying to reassure someone who didn’t want help?

“It’s not going to happen, Renjun.” Mark bursts. “I don’t have the time for your antics. Please leave.” Mark takes a deep breath, and once again, left his hands by his side, taking a look into Renjun’s eyes. “Please.”

Renjun, seeing something angry and weary haunting Mark, flees. His legs run down without a purpose.

  
  


Over the next week, an idea sprouts and promptly stays in his mind. Before he can clearly think about it with a friend at the least and his financial advisor at best; he looks up Mina’s contact information. They set up an appointment bright and early the next day; Renjun uses a fake name. 

Nevertheless, Mina doesn’t look surprised to see him in the doorway.

“Are you sure you want to buy it?” Mina crosses her arms. Renjun has sat down. He sips on a complimentary water bottle. 

“Absolutely.” 

“He doesn’t want you.” Mina says.

Renjun tries to pretend as if the thought has not plagued his nights. “That’s fine. I still want the house.” 

The deal is done in an hour; he buys at an offering price. Renjun doesn’t barter, and Mina doesn’t settle for small talk and beverages to celebrate. Renjun leaves, a pair of keys between his hands, and a determined look on his face.

It’s time to face his own demons.

Renjun takes the familiar steps back to the apartment. The smell of a nearby apartment’s cooking wafts over; he stops by a local restaurant to order take out before returning back onto his path. With every step, his walk fizzles. 

Renjun fears stepping inside; he fears that all he’ll find are ghosts surrounded by towers of pressure, He fears that this is the end all of their relationship. There is nothing for him to fix.

But when he enters, the pressure in his head relaxes. He sighs, and allows for the feeling of excitement back into his bones. There’s still old furniture; Renjun knows it has been deserted for the past year. He decides to keep it. He has arranged the rest of his things, stored across the world, to be shipped as soon as it can.

He’s found a space for himself, and he’d be displeased to give it up. For once, Renjun understands the concept of owning something for himself; he savors it. 

  
  


A few days later, a knock at the door comes as Renjun is carrying the last of the boxes into the apartment. It’s pouring outside; Renjun is shaking water from his shoulders as he answers the door. Abruptly, he sucks in a breath. Mark stands outside his door. 

“Hi.” 

Without greeting, Mark demands, “You bought the house?”

“How long have you known?” Mark’s shaky eyes snap from Renjun’s face, as he looks back to the street. 

“I couldn’t have come.” He mourns and takes a step back. Renjun takes a step forward.

“Why don’t we go inside and talk?” His tone is pleading. His heart races. If Mark chooses to leave, Renjun thinks to himself, he won’t spend a lifetime chasing. He’ll find another street to haunt; another person to terrorize.

Just as Renjun turns around in regret, Mark nods his head grimly. “Okay.” He says, spoken like he’s giving a possibility. Renjun grabs onto the latch of hope. He scatters to the kitchen; Mark sits down at the counter, his feet against the wall, his eyes turned to watch Renjun flutter around the kitchen for tea. 

Eventually, Renjun finds the leaves he is looking for. He dumps them into a pot and steeps some hot water. He sits down directly across from Mark. Seeing him in this light reminds Renjun of the first time he had seen him in the dining room, laughing and flirting below the table as their friends talked into oblivion.

Renjun swallows hard. He doesn’t know where to start the conversation. Should he move past his hasty leave and return? Paint a better picture of himself for Mark to see and want to start over with? Should he approach the topic? Let Mark do the talking? His wants and needs are desperately trying to stay afloat as he looks at him.

“Look, the one thing I don’t understand in this scheme is why you’re back.” Mark grimaces. Renjun watches his fingers trace the countertop.

“For fun.” Renjun blurts out. Mark cocks an eyebrow; Renjun tries to backtrack. “Sorry, I’m just a little flustered.” His hands are shaking. “Can I start over?”

Mark shakes his head. “It’s your house.”

“I came back because I was done with everything in my life. I had shed my life like a snakeskin; I wanted to see if there was anything I could fix...between the two of us.”

“And I said no.” Mark says carefully. “So why are you still here? Why’d you buy this place?”

Renjun looks up at the ceiling. He feels tiny, compartmentalized in this apartment. But he knows it’s important to get the biggest weight off of his chest.

He breathes in, breathes out, and begins. “I wanted some place to call home. It was a good idea at the time. I thought I could relieve some pressure off of your shoulders. I’m sorry for the hurt I pushed on your shoulders. I’m sorry to have dug my grave deep into your heart. I shouldn’t have done it, but for what it’s worth, I would do it again. All just have those few weeks back under my bones.” 

He shuts his eyes. For all his life, he has never uttered anything so real, so true to his heart. The silence pains him. He waits for the ball to drop, for Mark to leave and never come back. It would serve Renjun right. Justice would have found another way to kill him seven feet into the ground. 

Mark doesn’t say anything, and he stays in his seat. Renjun opens his eyes in caution. Mark’s looking around the room. He shakes his head.

“I believe you’re sorry.” He says. Relief sinks into Renjun’s veins.

“Really?” He can’t stop his mouth from asking.

Mark nods. “And I think that’s as much as I can possibly think of without combusting. We can discuss this tomorrow morning, right?”

Renjun smiles eagerly. “You’ll come back? To talk?”

Mark nods, his lips jutting out. “To talk.”

He stands there, in the entrance, excited beyond words. He doubts he’ll be able to sleep tonight.

For once, the future doesn’t seem so terrifying after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't planning on making a happy ending for markren, to be completely honest. but i was also blown away by the feedback given to me and i really just thought it would be fun to write more in this world :D (i know this isn't completely a happy ending but i feel this is more realistic then me smoothing everything over...markren needs to work through things!!)
> 
> i've always loved the idea of traveling for work; the inspiration for this story comes majorly from my trip w my parents to china to visit my grandparents last january before everything became so....bad. i think that as travel increases it's a great way to lesser known areas to have exposure and for people to become accustomed to the fact that cultures are different, and that that shouldn't be something we laugh at. i hope that you're solid and confident in your own culture, and if not, i hope you can find a place that welcomes you with open arms. i know it took me quite a long time, and im still working towards things :) anyways ! sorry for the rambling, i think i'm feeling quite melancholy these days :)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this!! let me know what you thought <3
> 
> and with the close of this story concludes my mission to reach 50,000 published words by the end of the year (i did it!)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dreamjuns) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/drmroses)


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